


Private Readings

by VulpusTumultum



Series: The Tevinter's Templar [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Book Nerds In Love, Character Background, Dorian's Birthright, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Pavus/BOOKS/Lavellan OT3, Romance Quest, bedroom games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpusTumultum/pseuds/VulpusTumultum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several chapters of Dorian Pavus/Lyos Lavellan focusing mostly on their interactions and conversations when alone. Also mostly/all involving them being bookworms, plus Lyos' family history.</p><p>Only mildly explicit when there's smut at all, fits in a bit after the rather smuttier "Wagging Tongues" stuff, but also does wind up mixed in with future works, timeline wise, since this is just one thread.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  So for giggles, I did find early face shot screenie of Lyos from actual in game, though I tend to write his eyes as a dark grey rather than the in game for some reason (crap memory, that's the reason).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyos Lavellan has what some would call an un-Dalish love for books, as well as for a certain Tevinter mage.
> 
> Dorian's fondness for books is of course perfectly acceptable, though his choice in Amatus would possibly cause House Pavus to go up in flames.
> 
> A rest at Skyhold gives time and place for all loves to come together.

Dorian woke up slowly from drowsing, enjoying the comfort of an actual bed, and the knowledge that whatever time it was, he wasn't about to have to get up for a long day of following the Inquisitor around some wilderness. Though at least on their last such period of trekking, Dorian had still been able to wake up on a number of mornings sharing a pile of blankets with the same body currently beside him. The first two times, he'd politely gone back to his own tent before dawn, but the third time, a very grumpy Amatus had kept an arm around him and mumbled something about camp scouts either proving they understood discretion or getting permanent assignments in the Western Approach's most distant camps and never seeing Skyhold again.

Of course this had meant dealing with the amusement of the others who went around with the Inquisitor on his important killing sprees, but their open amusement on the road was kept mostly to the road, and an improvement over the general Skyhold gossip. He could even tolerate Bull's knowing smirks and ocassional comments.

He shifted a little, his own arm was currently around his lover, and he realized, with a sort of vague mix of disgust and amusement over the sentiment, that he was, indeed, _cuddling_ against Lyos. They hadn't even actually had sex before sleeping, either, it was ridiculously domestic. The elf was half-sitting up against the headboard and pillows, and Dorian could hear an ocassional page turn as he continued to allow himself to enjoy the absurd peacefulness of half doze, and then his lover made a soft sound, and Dorian could feel a suppressed chuckle as much as hear it. Something similar had woken him into his half doze a bit ago. He couldn't help himself, and opened his eyes, rising up to lean more against the elf's shoulder..

“What, Amatus, are you even reading?”

Lyos chuckled again, and closed the book before Dorian got more than the briefest look at its contents- but the words hadn't been set up in a prose format- “Was that _poetry?_ ”

The cover was rather severely plain, too, as the warrior chuckled again, and pulled Dorian against him and held the book itself away from the mage's attempt to grab it. A very, _very_ dull sort of cover.

“...Is it _naughty poetry?"_ Although you were laughing, is it bad? It wasn't written by Varric, was it?”

The elf kept fielding the book away from Dorian, and took advantage of the mage leaning across him to reach, pulling him back in with his other arm and giving him a kiss, still smiling. “You sound almost distressed that I might read something like that-”

“Surprised. Distressed only if it's on the level of Varric's serials-” Dorian let a longer kiss interrupt him, and stopped reaching for the book, because having both hands on his Amatus was enjoyable. “Up until now you have seemed to just read histories and tactics, scholarly works- or at least attempts at scholarly.”

“Yes I know, you still cannot believe I wasted my time on that one on Tevinter- from the mage who admitted to having read _The Mysterious Practices of the Wild Elves_.”

“Required reading once from an instructor who wanted to ensure I knew how much more civilized we Imperial humans were, alas- I never said I _believed_ any of it.”

“That you had been required to read a book with three entire chapters devoted to imagined Dalish orgies is certainly more informative about Tevinter education standards than any books I have found here, certainly.”

“And yet the author managed to make them sound tediously dull. What happened to that copy of the book, exactly?”

“I have no idea.”

“It was a donation made in very good faith to the Inquisition I am sure. Rather rare outside of the Imperium- perhaps now rare there as well since I believe it went out of fashion four or five years ago.”

“Of course. A very valuable book, and it's a shame it was lost before even reaching the library shelves.”

“Your fake sincerity needs work, Amatus,” but Dorian's amused accusation ended in a gasp, because the kisses and carresses that were accompanying the conversation still were _very_ sincere. Perhaps it had been _good_ erotic poetry after all. He lunged suddenly across the elf's body during a relaxation in how he was held, and grabbed for the volume, which Lyos had finally dropped off to the side of the bed.

And his lover lunged after him and pinned him, the warmth and weight of the warrior's naked body against his back, as he chuckled and trapped the reaching arm. _It is still a shock how different he is when it is the two of us alone-_ was a fleeting thought. More pressing thoughts had to do with how to keep this game up properly. “For someone who appreciates scholarship, Amatus, you are being quite obstructive in my search for knowledge-” the elf's weight shifted, and while he still had a grip on Dorian's arm, his other hand finding its way beneath the mage and fondling him _very_ distractingly.

_Kaffas!_

He almost dropped the book. Almost.

“It might be normal poetry, I do read that on occasion,” Lyos' breath was hot against his skin, though he was almost still merely conversational in tone. Almost.

“If this is merely your reaction to the praise of blooming hyacinths,” Dorian knew he sounded breathless now, especially as fingers rubbed hard along him, and he had to arch his hips up a bit to give Lyos' hand and his own erection more space for comfort, “then for the sake of the young, impressionable, and religious, you will have to be kept out of the garden in spring.”

His Amatus was nibbling and licking along an ear, and the mage could feel the elf's cock against his skin, he squirmed, especially when Lyos murmured to him- it wasn't necessarily the words, although they were certainly a help, but the delivery- all heavy, deliberate intent, wrapped up in that damnably rich voice.

 

_“And so now fled to where none can see_

_Shedding our duties with silk and armor_

_So the grass stains your skin softly green_

_Finally I taste your sweetness_

_As forbidden we join beneath garden tree”_

 

“Oh well, that is quite normal so far, for a romantic poem at the least- you merely are making it sound far more naughty than it really is _,”_ the mage writhed against his lover's hold, trying to bring the book over to where he could really get a look at it, maybe even open it.

The next things Lyos whispered to him were much more explicit and Dorian's muscles tightened with anticipation, but he managed to complain with a low, breathy laugh, “I am not convinced that was part of the same poem-” his accusation stopped as he cried out, the warrior had bitten him, and now kissed and sucked at the mark he'd just made.

“I may be quoting multiple sources,” Lyos admitted, “or perhaps paraphrasing,” he did stop pinning Dorian's book-holding arm, but only because now he was pulling him further back onto the bed, and the mage triumphantly- if shakily- opened the book. From what he managed to read, Lyos may not have been paraphrasing by much, but-

“Some of these are _terrible_ after all. What,” he gasped as his Amatus rubbed particularly firmly at his cock, “What sort of disorganized collection _is_ this?”

“If you are going to pry so desperately-” the warrior was grazing down along his spine, his voice challenging as he continued, “-into my interrupted reading, do you at least intend to read aloud?”

Dorian found one of the better-seeming ones, and took the challenge, not dropping the book even when he felt kisses along his hip, and then was rolled summarily onto his back- and he managed to read almost one entire poem, shakily, while Lyos began to teasingly suck him off. When his lover began to tease his ass with fingertips though, the mage finally swore, and gave up.

Tossing the poetry aside he dragged his Amatus up into a kiss, ending the game so they could both focus entirely on lust that had nothing to do with what other people had put down on paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is now a comic that I commissioned from Tumblr user siriusdraws that uses part of this first chapter.  
> [You can enjoy the comic, which is beautifully drawn by clicking this link! (Dorian's bed-hair kinda steals the show I swear.)](http://siriusdraws.tumblr.com/post/123040670445/private-readings)
> 
> Also, this was SUPPOSED to be a bit of background story on Lyos, but the two jerks ran off in another direction for this first chapter at least.


	2. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyos tells Dorian a little about his own family- and Dorian gets some unpleasant reminders that his lover sees and is treated by the world differently than him.

Dorian had come out on top, as it were, though now they were merely spooning, nuzzled at a shoulder, “Where _did_ you find that damn book, anyway? That moldering little study below the kitchen?”

“Some shop in Val Royeaux when I swung by there last. Apparently was a collection of some Countess' favorites, put together unofficially for her by order- did you notice the first and last few chapters-”

“Were a completely dull looking philosophy text, yes,” Dorian chuckled, “Did the bookseller realize it was the Herald of Andraste he was selling plagiarized romance and erotica of varying quality to?”

“Hardly.”

“Were naughty books why you made that side trip without me?”

Lyos snorted, “No, I had to swing by for a tedious bit of business, the book store was just a bit of relaxation- once the shopkeeper got over his shock that some Dalish savage was literate, and then his second shock when a clever assistant guessed who the savage was before he called in some guards. Also, most of the other books are not even a little naughty, that one was just too hilarious to leave behind.”

Dorian thought he detected a slight note of evasion there, but wasn't sure what cause there might be for it- “He- almost called guards in on you?”

“He's going to be _delighted_ by the changes the Empress Celene and Briala wish to make..”

“Wait- you said he didn't realize he'd sold- did he think that was actually the text it is disguised as?”

“He and his assistant were.. a little flustered by the time I was paying for things,” Lyos shrugged.

Dorian shook his head, jarred- and shamed- again by realizations of things he once would have completely overlooked as just the way things _were_. Lyos turned around to face him, and kissed him, though the look in his lover's eyes warned the mage he likely about to feel more uncomfortable.

“City elves don't have money, and Dalish don't read. People here still get confused by how often I am in the library, and even you used to be puzzled about my reading habits- my normal ones, didn't you?”

Dorian flushed, “Yes- as you said, “ he sighed, “Dalish aren't generally pictured as reading anything other than possibly the writing in ruins.”

Lyos quirked a faint, brief smile, “And most don't. Keepers and Firsts, the mages, would be the ones to learn. Not much sense in reading any human languages unless you may be called upon to deal with outsiders as a speaker- and even then, books are too heavy to travel with many. I picked up the habit because of my father- he wasn't Dalish, and he tended to swap -or steal- books if we were within a day's travel of some town or village.”

“A free mage?” things had gone back to more comfortable again, though Lyos now had a wistful look, Dorian wondered if his Amatus sometimes wished he were back with his family- he always assumed the elf likely had a more pleasant one than he did. Certainly _hoped_ so at least.

“No- but he'd been a servant for an Orlaisian bookbinder and scribe when he was a child- was taught to read and write in a few languages because it made him more useful, and he enjoyed it- if he'd been human, he could have been a full apprentice. Had some kind of unpleasantness with the old man's heir, and wandered a few years, even wrote some books, before winding up with Lavellan.”

“You miss him?” the mage spoke softly, moving closer in again.

“Yes- he didn't quite fit in with the Dalish, even with Lavellan, and he left eventually, but he was a good man- and a good father.”

“He left?” Dorian instantly regretted asking, though he wasn't entirely sure why he regretted it, but Lyos shrugged.

“As I said, he never really fit in, he'd stayed because of us- he changed after mother died, and then after my sister...was killed, he just drifted away as well. I was a full scout, thus adult, by the time he did leave.”

 _Ah, that's why I was regretting asking-_ and yet he found himself wanting more of the details, just because even if they were unpleasant, they involved Lyos. _I have gone beyond smitten. And have no idea how to handle it sensibly, because this sort of thing was never considered sensible to even think about. Not only am I in love, but I am in love with someone whose family was completely the opposite of mine in most ways._

Lyos must have seen something in his expression, he gave Dorian a reassuring kiss, “I still had others in the clan who were like family, and it's been long enough that there's nothing truly raw about his leaving, or my mother or sister's passing.”

 _Kaffas- I am fairly sure I should be the one reassuring_ him _, there was a lie in there, but I have no idea what to say._

He settled for pulling Lyos further in against him, and slowly the silence became a more comfortable one again, eventually disturbed when a crow fussed at the balcony doors with a message- a reminder that the Inquisitor had duties to attend, and Dorian had research of his own to get back to- though he still found himself distracted by the details of the conversation.


	3. Recovered Birthright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyos' actual reason for visiting Val Royeaux comes out, much to initial aggravation and frustration.

Dorian just stared at the amulet tucked quietly away amongst his clothing and other belongings in his room, before finally picking it up, the gold catching the light. It certainly should _not_ have been in there. His birthright pendant, mark of status, key to open doors, it should still have been in the rather greasy grasp of the merchant he had sold it off to when he first came South out of anger and in need of money-

“ _Laevus-_ I may murder the man.” ' _Why did you go to Val Royeaux without me,' of_ course _it was to see that toad that I told you I did not wish you dealing with, to get what I told you_ I _would handle getting back. Not that I had gotten around to even an idea of how-_

The mage let it drop back into the chest rather like it was a live snake for the time being- although for a moment, he had almost put it back on. It was unneeded, and unnecessary, and.. sentimental. Perhaps useful in some future when he returned to Tevinter, when everything was over.

_'Everything.' what an unpleasant word to think-_ Dorian caught the wriggling little thought wondering if this was meant to suggest an ending, and shoved it away as well-  _no, that would not be why he would have done this, where is the idiot right now so I can go be furious at him rather than just about him? Did he think I would mind less if he just left it here to be discovered?_

And yet, he picked it back up and took it with him when he stalked out of the room.  _Only to be able to dangle it in front of his pretty eyes when I demand he explain why he thought it was a good idea to deal with that extortionist._

He caught sight of Lyos sparring with Cullen as he checked the courtyard of the Keep, but absolutely refused to be impressed with what otherwise might have been quite an enjoyable display- out of Skyhold, fights generally allowed no time to just admire how gracefully Lyos could move even in his heavy armor-  _they had better be done soon_ .  _And unless the Herald is not being given time to breathe today, he will be going to his rooms when they do to get out of armor again- at least now Josephine has convinced him that the Inquisitor needs to wear things that fit him properly and won't cause every new visitor to mistake him for a servant when he's running around. Bare improvement, but something._

From the look on the warrior's face, at least, he had a guess as to why his lover was rather irritatedly leafing through a book at his desk when he did come in, even before Dorian rose and stalked over to him, holding up the amulet.

 

*********

 

“I am _very_ certain this did not wind up in my room due to our spymaster or some random meddler, _laevus-_ what were you thinking? I did not wish you to do this! If word gets out- if that.. man.. gloats that you made a deal with him- this was _my_ issue, not yours!”

_Well, I knew he would be upset, shame I still have no idea how to handle it-_

“ Dorian-  _ma sa'lath_ \- I am sorry, but someone holding something over you  _is_ also my problem-”

“ And so will be anyone discovering you did this for me- proof that all one must do is get close to the Inquisitor and his power will grant their every wish, more suggestion that  _this_ is what I am after-“

Lyos wanted to just growl that those fools could go to Fen'Haral, but that seemed unlikely to make Dorian feel better.  _They can, however do so- blight take it, he still worries first that it will harm me, and the Inquisition, before also bringing up how they hurt him personally with their unthinking poison-_

He did catch Dorian's accusing hand, the amulet trapped by both Dorian's bare and his gauntleted fingers, “ _I_ know you are not after that-  _Creators-_ Listen, please, for all that yes I also merely wished you to have this back- the man who had it contacted  _me_ \- or rather, the Inquisition. It was rather clear that he would eventually try and find  _any_ way to get something for it, or out of it, and his 'price' or his client could become as much a problem as those idiots who gossip. I did not use Inquisition resources, I refused to deal with him on his terms.”

The mage stared at him, but at least was  _not_ jerking away- “Then on what terms? Bloodshed? Threats? You're so good at being forceful and savage,” the man's lips twitched, and it was hard to tell if he was actually in a slightly better humor, or if the words were meant to be biting.

“ Threats. He wanted to weasel the appearance of Inquisition sanctioning him- or Inquisitor partnership, and also brought up possibly seeing if your family would be willing to make offers if you were not really such an important ally to our  _cause_ . That he did bring up and threaten the Inquisition as a whole, I will happily point out as the reason I dealt with him, if anyone ever brings it up.  _He_ will not likely be discussing how the Herald of Andraste nearly had him pissing himself in a quiet corner of the Val Royeaux marketplace, so I am unsure how anyone will ever even know. And of course, you were not there, and thus not using any wiles on me during my conversation with him.”

“ Nearly soiled himself?  _Really?_ Is this some exaggeration for the sake of entertainment?” the mage  _did_ sound like he was in a better mood.

“ I  _am_ very good at being a savage, although I threatened him mostly with political implications and how it could quite ruin him rather than  _direct_ violence.”

“ It is impossible dealing with you, and I am still absolutely offended,” but Dorian's fingers tightened and the mage slowly pulled him closer, “However pretty a picture you paint of such an ugly man for me- But perhaps I don't  _entirely_ hate you again after all, and should be slightly less of an ass about receiving gifts.”

“ Good, because I also did find a book I thought you might enjoy-”

“ Oh, and when am I getting it?”

“ When I finish it.”

“ On second thought,  _you_ are the ass, and I find you terrible in every possible way,” Dorian muttered, but the corner of his lip was quirked upwards as he leaned down to kiss Lyos anyway, tugging him closer still, “You also smell like an iron works, and your hair is a mess- how soon is anyone expecting you to be Inquisitorial again?”

Lyos arched as Dorian's mustache and lips tickled along the edge of an ear, and had a hard time thinking about something other than the heat of his breath-. “A bit more than half an hour, and then I have to deal with some visiting Orlaisians-”

“Oh _good_. They admire someone who is fashionably late,” the mage chuckled in a way that made Lyos' blood pound, and slid the necklace on around his neck to free up hands, so that he could start to tug at armor straps and buckles expertly.

Lyos shuddered, and helped- time  _was_ wasting, after all.

 


	4. Book Finding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian fully intends to pay Lyos back for the whole amulet thing, and knows the right people to help.

“So, Inquisitor, how often does Sparkler wake you up because he's found something fascinating in his latest book? Inquiring minds want a bet settled,” Varric of course just asked it mildly, out of the blue, as they were on the road once more.

“Do you _mind?_ Also, what in Andraste's name makes you so sure he doesn't do it to _me-_ or is that a separate bet? _”_ Dorian's irritation was real, but less than it could have been, as he realized this could lead to help with something he had been considering for a time- since _before_ getting back the amulet that hung under his clothing, but now certainly seemed only fair play, and more important. _He has brought up Lavellan, and his family a little more lately._

Besides which, when all was said and done, the teasing of the dwarf and others who clearly approved- or at least enjoyed the idea of their relationship was a nice change. And possibly helping to slowly crush the more poisonous whispers around Skyhold- or at least, making them more of a background noise.

Of course, Leliana had been difficult enough to approach with his inquiries, but she was his only route to get a question to Lyos' clan- other than the Herald himself, also by now the other person at Skyhold with a decent idea of how to phrase things to their Keeper- and she had gotten the answer faster than he'd expected. While only being mildly embarrassingly enthusiastic and _romantic_ as she understood why he'd wanted to know-

“Well damn, Sparkler. Now I feel like I've lost out on money somewhere.”

Lyos snorted, “He wakes me far more often. For a shem he seems to ignore the idea of sleep whenever he feels like it. I mostly do it for revenge purposes.”

 “That explains why so often it is something that makes absolutely no sense.”

“What, like that one book with the middle that doesn't match the front and back?” Sera laughed, “Because that one- boring then suddenly, BAM it's people all over each other- then boring again. No sense.”

“Really? Huh, I admit not having pictured you with that kind of taste in reading,” the dwarf eyed the Inquisitor with even more of a grin.

“...Sera exactly how often do you break into my room?”

“What? Din't break in anything, you leave those window-doors unlocked.”

“The _balcony_ ones?”

“Yeah, I guess. How does your big room have so little _stuff_? Just books everywhere, messy sheets half off the bed, but nothing interesting from anywhere.”

Bull grinned, clearly assuming the worst about how and why sheets might be messy and half off the bed.  _Not that he's wrong, considering how compulsively tidy our Herald is otherwise- blight it, never mind how she gets in,_ when _is she doing it? Right after we have to rush out for some reason?_ _  
_

Dorian found his own reaction distracted by Lyos'- he hadn't seen his Amatus blush that much in quite a while, if ever- but it was most certainly time to find a way to distract Sera and discuss books with Varric sometime later. The dwarf might prove to be even more difficult to deal with in some ways, but using him and his resources rather than the Inquisition's was more sensible- and be more efficient than any of Dorian's knowledge or friends back home when it came to southern books and publishers.

 

*********

 

Weeks later, Varric wound up in Dorian's alcove- not entirely unknown for the dwarf to visit the library, or to stop and chat with him about something. The mage put his current study down, as the rogue handed over more books than he'd really expected, two of the four main volumes fairly slim for not being serials- and the fifth, even smaller..

“They're not bad, Sparkler, from what I read, though I figured you were impatient so didn't read them all. More serious than I tend to go for, and realistic. And- that last one, that was published a lot more recently than the others. Even smaller run- probably only as a favor or something, since apparently the man hasn't even really gotten paid- company lost track of him, and he never contacted them about royalties after that. Talk about elves sometimes being just plain _unnatural_. Never a big seller, not a lot of reprints, but they've kept just about everything they made off him for the last two decades, so they went ahead with the poetry- I should say you owe me for that one in particular, but all things considered, I might let it slide since it's for Lavellan.”

Dorian snorted, flipping through one of the older ones eagerly, skimming the words, “Travelogue- no, not just that- well it's nonfiction, so realism is certainly a benefit for it to have. Another- this... hmph- his language is more common but this otherwise is- Varric, it _is_ entirely possible that they missed out on more money if they didn't bother to market towards scholars or universities.”

“ _Really_ not my area of expertise, but I'll take your word for it- and will continue to do so if you want to discuss more about that whole 'more money to be made' thing after you're done. May have used the most boring, human sounding name ever for a reason, but the company knew he was an elf, might've been why they avoided academics who'd actually get curious about where to find an author.”

“True, written by a human, any rather unflattering bits about politics and people are merely a truthful study of the human condition, whereas by anyone else, it would get denounced as the worst propaganda by many- a book by an elf would possibly be considered a hoax of some kind as well- I do love being reminded of how ridiculous we are. But I may still get back to you, Varric.”

“The two of you have some interesting ideas about grand gestures of friendship and romance. I still haven't gotten over his cornering me about _Swords and Shields_ for Cassandra- but this is looking like too much of a private affair. Useful if I ever branch out into more romance between librarians or mages rather than dashing swashbucklers, though. Very sweet, tracking down first editions of things- and absolutely heartwarming with the whole family backstory.”

“Oh do go away, until it's time to bother me about return favors or payments,” Dorian settled back further into his chair, and flipped back to start the oldest book from the beginning.


	5. Familiar Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two can play the "leave surprise gifts in your room when you aren't looking" game.

Lyos was glad he'd had time to clean up a little and peel out of armor before having to give his reports and meet with the council- and settle a few disputes that were at least not as shattering as some of the judgments he'd had to hand down from the Inquisition seat. At least the meeting had settled the gnawing worry- clan Lavellan was safe for the moment- if not entirely certain how they felt about winding up stuck in a Shem city for a time- as co-governors, no less. But- at least until the end of Corypheus, they _were_ safer there, with troops from the Inquisition guarding them, than wandering.

He sighed tiredly- there was no way he could have gone so far north himself, the Inquisition _had_ to focus on Ferelden and Orlais for now, it was where Corypheus was most active with his Red Templars. Not even because they had been in danger, and he was- had been- one of the clan's best warriors to defend them. _Now_ he could only defend them by trying to defend everyone, maybe make tiny changes to how humans viewed elves. He wasn't entirely sure if he missed just the clan, or the idea of how much- simpler- it had been, even as the strangest member of one of the odder Dalish clans roaming the Marches. Both, really. Friends, former lovers- though he had a slight lip twitch, because even if Lavellan was cautiously more friendly towards humans- he knew there would be some unpleasant opinions if and when they ever found out about his current lover. Even Ke eper Istimaethoriel might choke a little over his choosing a shem, for all her feelings that the Dalish could not try for complete isolation, from them, city elves, or each other if they were going to survive. It so far hadn't made them a popular clan- though one or two other Keepers had been slowly sending and receiving messages before Conclave. 

Not that he was likely to ever return, except- maybe to visit, once things were more settled. Once Corypheus was dead. A better chance to say real goodbyes- he was going to be stuck in his role for a long time- if nothing else, there were rifts that would need closing in any nation willing to give the Inquisition permission to do so. And even if somehow he could stop being Inquisitor, political enemies would be around, waiting for a chance of revenge- best to stay distant.

But yes, he was homesick for aravels instead of stone walls, even those of Skyhold, and there had been a list of familiar names to mourn. Thankfully a short one.

Outside it was edging towards sunset, but he'd at least been able to eat a little before, between, and during the less formal bits of meetings- and Dorian was apparently up to his eyebrows in some project or other- only giving a distracted greeting earlier. The Inquisitor sighed, not  _entirely_ disappointed by the idea of an actual evening of reading and sleep alone- though also not entirely fine with it- and dropped onto the bed after pulling off his shirt at least, reaching without looking for the book he'd left on the stand.

But it wasn't the right book- he frowned slightly, it was unfamiliar to him, both in look and title- but then he saw the author's name, and froze.  _That_ name he knew- he'd only ever read one full book by the man- and parts of others, ones that were unlikely to ever be published officially if at all. And carefully handbound volumes when Keeper Istimaethoriel's predecessor had finally agreed with his First that writing down histories and stories didn't somehow demean them.

Those had never had any name on them, much less this very  _shem_ name, that he wouldn't have known except for the one volume that traveled with them everywhere..

_One of Father's books? His- first? How- he said it was barely printed, barely worth printing-_

His chest tightened, and he laughed softly. There really was only one way books could mysteriously appear in his room- well, three, but he doubted Leliana or Varric would have been behind this. Unless recruited by someone else- someone who even _knew_ about his father's past.

_Dorian- is this your 'revenge' for the amulet? How did you even find out his name-_

He looked to the table, with the other books- and none of them were the ones he'd left- or rather, those were neatly stacked, in proper order behind this new tidy pile, every single one of them bearing his father's pen name.  _That_ was enough to make him blink back tears, grabbing them, and examining the covers, leafing silently through pages. There was the one he was familiar with but-  _Four others, he never said he'd written this many before coming to the clan-_ but no, the last one wasn't from before Vallasen had joined Lavellan at all- only published four years ago, well after he'd  _left_ .

He put the others aside, and opened it- his throat tightened on the dedication page, both from sudden sadness- and an urge to laugh, from the part of him wondering if the publisher had wondered who _Dareth Shiral_ was- or perhaps someone there had known the elven phrase for _farewell- safe journey,_ though that was unlikely.

He glanced again to the other books, then sighed, and began reading this last one first- since it clearly was not part of any series.

Lyos found he did have to switch from it to one of the others- easier to read and remember how his father thought about things outside of the clan than read the memories in that last book, even if he'd filtered them to sound as.. non-Dalish as possible, so that to humans at least, it likely read like someone merely pulling in some romanticism about ancient elves before the Exalted Marches into literary work.

But for Lyos it was fairly unnerving, since it clearly was memories and family farewells that the man hadn't managed to give in person. _Did he actually realize or hope when he published this that I would read it? I'm basically reading letters to Mother, a few to Lyri, and myself. I'm the only one alive- which was why he left, before as a scout my funeral was his to witness like theirs. I already knew that, even before reading this, and it- isn't surprising he did this, somehow, as a way to try and keep them alive._

Unnerving, but also- it did help with some of the homesickness, getting to at least 'hear' some familiar stories and thoughts. Maybe a little more unnerving than the actual words that complete strangers, mostly shem, would be reading them- but that.. fit how his father had always done things too.

_Sad farewells, and yet he'd hope that somewhere, ridiculous nobles who call us knife-ears will be sobbing into lace over Mother and Lyri. Dorian likely saw the joke in that too if he kept himself interested in the poetry at all. And in the rest of the books- since there was no way he would have left them here if he hadn't finished them, or at least, as much as he wanted to._

_However else the others may react if they ever hear about our relationship- well, if he's still alive and hears about it, he'll approve of Dorian more than some of my other choices, even if just because he knows how human nobles will look at it, and will thus find it funny, possibly also ridiculously romantic and dramatic, rather like Varric keeps trying to paint it._

_Though at least Varric is unlikely to use poetry as one of his methods to deliberately annoy Dorian. If Lyrithien were still alive she'd be wanting to throw the book across the room._


	6. Gratitude and Games

Dorian had occasional moments of doubt as to how the gift might be received after all, though not enough to keep him from leaving them for his Inquisitor, and he was busy enough with some newly retrieved books on magical theory that had still been lurking in what was left of the Ferelden Circle's tower. _Either he will be unhappy and tell me so, or he will be busy reading for a while himself in what spare time he gets here- I am hardly going to interfere with that. Well, for a day or maybe two- he was gone for a week and a half, after all._.

He was in the mage tower, still poring over books the next evening when a message was delivered, that the Herald wished to see him in the main keep when he had time.

_Useful, Amatus having two titles, when it comes to being polite._ If the Inquisitor sent word, it was something official, possibly quite dreary. If it was the Herald, then- well, generally not official, and sometimes something of a religious experience, if still not one Mother Giselle approved of.

It was late enough that Josephine had either finished for the evening, or was taking a break, and Dorian did have another slight twinge of nerves as he did slip through the private door and up the stairs to knock politely on the Inquisitor's room, just in case of some unexpected messenger or other bit of business happening.

After a moment, Lyos opened the door, “ _How_ did you find the name? I am fairly certain I never even mentioned it-”

Dorian chuckled, slipping into the room, “You're absolutely adorable when you're confused and puzzled, did you know that, Inquisitor?”

Lyos folded his arms and looked up at him, arching a brow, “And when I start to become frustrated and irritated by you, mage?”

“When just starting? The same, really- how was the trip?” Dorian felt his lips twitch at the elf's expression, _signs do point to his being quite happy with the gift- so at least whatever Varric calls in, it's worth it._ He chuckled and started past Lyos deliberately, heading further into the room.

The not-quite-Templar glared at him, or tried to, but his own lips twitched. “So you're trying to make me _more_ frustrated?”

“Possibly. It _has_ been a bit over a week, after all, with not much to do but read and play chess with the Commander-”

“And sneaking books into my room? Also, I noticed, reorganizing my piles- which were perfectly tidy.”

“That only took the week because I had to read them first. Putting them in here only took a few moments today- and tidy, but not at all in proper order, much like the main library of this place _still_ -”

“You read them all first?”

“Of course, Tevinter mage plot, there had to be something in it for me.” _like the way you look right now, everything about you smiling except that mouth- and that only because you are trying to look stern and... Inquisitor-y. Templar-ish, perhaps._

Dorian turned and closed the distance between them again, gazing down at him, “You let such devious people get your trust, Amatus, it's rather worrying- you could be at risk,”

“Likely not safe in my own bed?”

“Oh most definitely not,” Dorian knew attempts at playing the menacing mage were spoiled by the fact he was too pleased by Lyos' reaction, and was having a hard time not chuckling. Not helped that his Amatus was in such a similar state.

He gave in, and laughed a little, before pulling the warrior in for a kiss.

“Mmph, I still want an answer eventually-” the elf chuckled as well, after that first rather short and breathless kiss, and then pressed a much more steady and longer kiss onto the mage, “Thank you, _ma sa'lath.”_

Even though Dorian didn't know the term- his lover's tone of voice made its meaning at least reasonably clear, and he felt an odd mix of lightness and tightness again in his chest, as he realized that Lyos was using more snatches of elven with him as they were together longer. _And in a way I suppose I've now met his father- for that matter, something of his mother through the writing._

That little thought almost felt painful- no not just it, both realizations together.

_This feels too good, too much like a silly dream again-_

“Dorian?-”a little sudden concern in the other man's voice.

“Just- distracted by how positively sickening we both are right now. The picture of infatuation-”

_And terrified for a moment of losing you- to anything._

“I won't tell anyone if you don't, though it's only what you deserve- _vhenan'ara_.”

“Are you deliberately trying to make it worse now, _Amatus_? And do I ever get to know what exactly you keep calling me?”

“ _Possibly_ ,” and Lyos kissed along his throat, then nearly unbalanced him when he gracefully climbed Dorian, thighs around his waist, strong arms around the mage's shoulders. Automatically, the mage's own arms went around him, one sliding to support Lyos' ass-

“You realize that despite being short, you are a muscled savage, and hardly a feather, even out of armor-” but Dorian kissed him hungrily after the complaint, making sure to get a good handful of some of the muscle in question.

“Mmm..poor mage, are you spending too much time plotting and reading gift books first? Getting soft?” he shifted and tightened his legs so that it was a thrust against Dorian, and pressed his mouth along the pulse of his throat. The mage couldn't hold back a soft groan.

“Soft is the last thing I am getting, as you are.. _quite_ aware when you do that-” he arched as Lyos did it _again_ \- “ _Amatus_ if you continue with that, it may not be the bed we even reach.”

Lyos smirked against skin, and ground himself in once more unashamedly. Dorian had little choice but to wind up on the nearby couch instead of the bed with him for deep kisses and hands in clothing, loosening clothing, getting clothing off completely, but sometimes letting it tangle around limbs as teasing constraints.

“If I had realized you would be _this_ pleased- I would have given them to you one a week perhaps,” he chuckled, when his mouth was free of Lyos' again for a few moments.

Lyos' mouth didn't wind up on his again immediately, but it still was the last coherently full sentence Dorian managed to tease him with for a while. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DORKY FLUFF to get my brain a little recovered from the other stuff I'm working on. It was super effective, and hopefully enjoyable to others too.


End file.
